Guardian Frog
by Volixia669
Summary: Young England asks France a very important question. Trouble ensues afterwards but not the good kind.


"Frog?" Young England asked France. The older boy looked up upon the child from his spot on the ground. England was wearing his classic green cloak and holding his little rabbit.

"Yes Angleterre?" Young France inquired as he sat up, picked up the child, and sat him in his lap.

"What's sex?" France opened his eyes in shock. He wasn't expecting this question until much later.

"Why do you want to know?" He asked wanting to know this before he began and hoping it wasn't because his little England wanted to try it.

"Some of the priests at the church were talking about it after mass was over and all the people left…they didn't know I was there. But they were talking about sex and something to do with children and if God would mind. I didn't understand it though." England looked up at France with confused eyes. France sighed.

_Might as well tell him. But why would priests of all people be talking about sex? And why would they mention children?_ With that last thought France started on his talk.

"Well you see Angleterre…when two people love each other very much, whether they be a man and a woman, a man and a man, or a woman and a woman, they get naked. And one of the men or the man depending on who's doing who, stick their penis in the other."

England cocked his head. "But where?" He inquired, confused.

"Well if it's a man and a woman, the man sticks it in a special hole that women have for this purpose. If it's man on man then they stick it in the anus…but that can be painful so they usually just cum."

"Cum?"

"It's when you suck on a dick."

"But how do women…"

France ruffled England's hair. "You don't need to know that Mon Petite Lapin." Little England nodded and squeezed his rabbit. France then realized something.

"Now Angleterre, two things. Now that I've told you this…you must not do it until you are much older."

England looked at France oddly. "Why?" France sighed.

"Well…your body isn't ready for it yet. When your body has aged past fifteen years, then yes, maybe. But now? No. Not now."

England nodded. "And the second thing?" France looked down upon the child and held him closer.

"If anyone ever tries to have sex with you, before you're ready and willing, then that is bad. Don't let anyone ever do that to you. If they even try then you must fight back. You must never let them touch you. Run as far away as you possibly can, run to me if you can. I'll protect you from those people. Always."

England nodded. He lay on top of France.

"So Frog will always protect me from bad people?" France chuckled.

"Yes petite lapin. Frog will."

France awoke with a start by the sound of a horse. He almost sat straight up before he noticed the sleeping form of England on top of him. France looked around and saw a man on a horse come right towards them. France was prepared to fight before he realized it was one of the monks who lived and worked at the convent that England lived. France found it funny that the monk had to ride side-saddle due to his robes. The monk stopped the horse, got off, and approached France.

"I'm afraid the child needs to come back, the King needs to see him on affairs, and afterwards it will be time for mass."

France nodded, than nudged England until he awoke. England rubbed his eyes blearily and looked around.

"Wha…"

"Young child, you need to come back. Some people need to speak with you and you need to come to mass. One must abide by God's will." The monk was uncomfortable. As far as he was concerned these two "Nations" were devil-spawn and should be burned at the stake.

England nodded, and looked up at France.

"Can Frog come to mass?" He asked, muttering unbeknownst to the monk, "It's always so boring."

The monk sighed. "Yes. If your friend behaves. He'll have to walk though."

France nodded. He looked at England.

"I'll be there by the time it starts. If not I'll see you afterwards." England nodded and walked towards the monk. The monk picked up the boy and placed him on the horse. He then mounted and galloped off. France sighed and got up. He dusted his clothes off.

"Off to mass I suppose. I hope the Church back home doesn't mind I went to an English one and not a French one." France started the long trek to the convent.

England stifled a yawn. King-something or other, was just going on and on about money and taxes. And then he kept going back to God saying that it was God's divine will that they tax the people so highly and that it was God's divine will that all witches and heathens be burned at the stake. Every time England tried to raise the question of why they had to kill and hurt the people in the first place he was just yelled at and called a stupid child who knew not what he was speaking of. England inwardly shrugged. This King would die soon anyway. They all do. Except the really bad ones. Those seemed to live the longest for some reason.

Finally, at long last, it was time for mass. Which England supposed, was slightly less boring than a meeting with the King. At least people weren't watching him as closely. And France would be there too which meant that it would be somewhat more interesting. England walked to mass with an extra spring in his step. However that spring was soon gone when he saw that France was not there.

"_But he said he would be here. Why isn't he here?" _ England thought glumly. He slowly shuffled to his pew, unaware of the priest that was eyeing him closely.

"I am not a lady. Now if you excuse me." France said in a huff. Another man in the countryside thought he was a woman just because he had a long tunic and had long hair. Yes his tunic was a light shade of blue and yes his hair was longer than most Englishmen. But was he a woman? No, he wasn't. He was the literal personification of France. All these encounters with men thinking he was a woman who needed an escort were making him late. By the time he got to the convent mass will have finished. Hopefully it won't be too late to see England though.

*^*  
England felt betrayed. Mass was finally over and France had not showed up. He then remembered that France said he would meet him afterwards. England started to the door that led outside when he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"Oh dear child, where might you be headed?" Said a voice. England looked up and saw a priest looming over him.

"Outside. I'm to meet a friend." England said wanting to leave quickly. Something didn't feel right.

"Oh really? But I have a new kind of tea that I think you would enjoy. I would really appreciate it if you would come with me to try it." England thought for a second. The thought of new tea was intriguing…

"I would love to…but my friend must be expecting me." England tried to walk away, but the priest's grip was too strong.

"Oh but I insist. Now come with me. Your friend can wait." The priest grabbed England's wrist and dragged him off farther into the convent. England attempted to break free, but to no avail.

"Let me go! I demand it!" England cried out. The priest gave a half smile.

"And what right does one who is not human, and thus is not one of God's children, have to demand anything? Let alone release." As the priest approached the door to his chamber, England started yelling for help. His only response was a slap.

"Hush child, there is no need to shout." The priest said in a sickly sweet voice. England started trembling.

France was waiting outside the convent. He had finally got there, and as he expected, the bells were tolling signaling that mass was finally over. It was starting to get dark. France wondered if there was a possibility of staying with England overnight. He doubted the monks would care as long as he didn't sleep in the same bed with him. France was starting to wonder if England had forgotten what he had told him and had thought that France had forgotten about him.

"_But even so…I did say I would meet up with him afterwards…I could go inside…but I barely know my way around the place."_ France shivered in the cold. His tunic may be beautiful, but it wasn't exactly the warmest piece of clothing. He then heard something. France perked his head up. He heard it again. It sounded like someone screaming…someone…

"Merde! Angleterre!" As if to confirm his suspicions he heard it again. France started running towards the sound. Unfortunately, as quickly as it had begun, it had stopped. But France had a good idea of where it came from.

"Please stop! What are you doing?" England pleaded with the priest as he was led into a room. The priest tossed England on to the bed, shut the door, and turned around to face the fireplace. England scrambled quickly to get off the bed. He looked around wildly for an escape route, but could find none. He suddenly found himself shrinking into a corner. The priest turned around holding a cup. He smirked as he saw England, huddled pathetically in the corner. He walked towards the child, and knelt down.

"I did tell you I had a 'tea' for you to try. Now why don't you drink this." The priest shoved the cup in England's face. England pressed his mouth shut and shook his head. He didn't want to be here. He did not trust this man. England then remembered the second thing France told him about sex. England trembled again. Was this priest one of the bad men? But didn't he work for God? The priest sighed in annoyance. He pinched England's nose to force the child to breathe through his mouth. England held his breath as long as he could but was forced to open his mouth. As he did so the hot liquid was forced down his throat. England started coughing as he nearly choked. The priest smirked.

"How do you like it? It's my own special brew. Made from a few select herbs. You'll find it will make, even a demon child like you, quite complacent." England looked up at the priest with eyes filled with fear. He tried to escape, hoping to get to the door and open it to run; but already his limbs felt like they weren't his own. His body felt dead. England started crying.

"Now don't cry little child. It will all be over quickly." The priest said as he threw England on the bed and started taking off England's clothes. England wanted to struggle, to kick and flail, but all he could do was cry and whimper, in fear that screaming would just cause him more pain. The priest started stroking England's small body. All the while, whispering cruel, cruel things.

France ran as fast as he could. The fact that he could no longer hear England yelling only made him think the worst had happened. He finally reached where he thought he heard the scream. France looked around, he saw a thick door. As he moved closer he heard a child and man.

"England." He thought to himself. It finally clicked. The priests…they weren't just talking about sex, they were talking about harming a child to do it, and if God would punish them for such a thing. They were talking about touching his Angleterre. France grimaced. Those fools. That fool. God's wrath would not compare to his own. France took a dagger he had hidden underneath his tunic, and opened the door.

France stood aghast at the sight before him. The priest, naked, on top of England, who was being forced to lie face down. His little England, crying, begging for the priest to stop, to quit biting him. France gripped the dagger tighter.

"Get off of him. Now." France demanded. The priest looked behind him in shock. England's eyes opened as he recognized the voice.

"France!" He yelled. He tried to move his limbs with his newfound hope, but they were still limp.

"How…" The priest shook his head. "No…nevermind…"

"Get off of him." France demanded again, glaring at the priest.

"Or what? You'll stab me with your little dagger?" The priest got off of England and moved towards France. "Are you forgetting who's bigger? Who's stronger? Who is the child here and who is the adult? Who has God on his side?" The priest grabbed the wrist of the hand holding the dagger. France growled, and kicked the priest in the gut, knocking him back and forcing him to let go. France stomped on the priest's stomach.

"You really think God is on your side? Especially after what you did to this child? You really think He wouldn't care that you harmed an innocent child?"

"Innocent? Innocent! That child is not human and neither are you! He is not one of God's children so I doubt He would care." The priest tried to get up but couldn't. The force France was applying was too strong.

"You sicken me." France spat at the priest. "Does it matter if we are God's children or not? A crime is still a crime and you have committed one of the more horrendous ones. And even so…how many other children have you harmed this way? How many altar boys and choir boys? How many servant boys? How many girls and young women? Do you really think God won't punish you for those acts?" France shook his head and stabbed the priest in the heart, ignoring the guttural cry of pain as he died. France debated taking the dagger out but decided to leave it be. He looked up in worry as England was still lying on the bed. If it weren't for his whimpers, France would have thought that he was dead.

"England." France whispered.

"France…is he gone? Is the priest gone?" England whimpered out as he lay painfully still.

"Yes, he is. He'll never harm you again." France climbed on to the bed, and gathered England in his arms, being careful to shield him from the sight of the dead priest.

"France…he gave me something to drink. I can't move my body. I can't move, France!" England started crying again. France nodded and rubbed England's back.

"Shh…Shh…It'll be alright. Everything will be fine now. You'll be able to move eventually." France murmured in England's ear. He was worried though. He had not heard of anything that did that before. He just hoped that what he was saying was true. France looked around. He saw England's clothes on the floor in the corner.

"Angleterre…I'm going to get your clothes, and I'm going to dress you. Then we're going to run as fast as we can from this place."

"But France…I can't run."

"I'll carry you. I'll carry you to the highest and farthest hills if I have to. We can't stay here much longer though. You have to be silent though. We can't let the monks find us." France sat England on the bed, grabbed the clothes, and carefully put them on. England was like a large doll, moving without complaint, not even vocal. France put the cloak on him and picked him up once more. With the small nation on his back, France bolted. He rushed past confused monks and managed to make it outdoors. France did not stop however, and continued on, not stopping until he reached a nearby forest. France slowed down and marched through the forest, careful not to step nor trip on any roots and twigs. Silence would be his best adversary now. Luckily he wasn't too far from the Welsh border where hopefully Wales would grant them sanctuary. Eventually France figured that he was far enough in the forest that no one would even try looking for them there. He gently set England down on the ground, smiling as he saw the child had fallen asleep.

"_I suppose it is all for the best. Maybe sleep will help his limbs become mobile once more." _ With that thought France arched his back, and lay on the ground next to England. He pulled the other nation closer to him. France then nodded off to a blissful sleep.

England stirred. His body felt numb, his neck hurt, and he was cold. England's eyes shot open as memories from the previous night came back to him.

"Huh…" He murmured as all he saw was a light blue. England moved his head, and saw France's head above his.

"_That's right…the Frog kept his promise. Did I fall asleep?"_ England decided to snuggle closer, enjoying the movement. France soon awoke however. A quick glance downwards sent a smile to his face.

"I see someone is awake." England grunted. France chuckled. He sat up, and stretched. France noted with amusement the pout on England's face as his source of warmth had moved. He decided not to deprive him of the warmth much longer; picked England up and sat him on his lap. England reluctantly leaned against France's chest.

"So he can move again…that's good." France said quietly to himself. England looked up.

"What did you say Frog?" France gave a wave of his hand.

"Oh nothing. Just that we should probably get moving soon." France gave a slight smirk at his own cover-up. England nodded, and got off France.

"Where are we going?" He asked as France got up as well.

"We're going…well we're going to my house I suppose. It'll take a while and we'll need to get a boat though." England nodded once again and tried to take a step. His legs turned to jelly however and he fell on to his face.

"Angleterre!" France cried out and quickly knelt and picked England back up. England wrapped his little arms around France's neck and started crying again. France shook his head and started rubbing England's back in hopes of comforting him.

"F-Frog. I-I'm s-scared…the p-priest…h-he n-nearly d-did b-bad s-sex t-to m-me. I-It h-hurts and I-I c-can't move a-again." England gripped France tighter, nearly choking the older child. "H-He s-said m-mean w-words t-to m-me t-too. H-He s-said I w-was w-worthless. H-he said that God w-would n-never t-take m-me t-to h-heaven b-bec-cause I'm n-not h-human. H-He s-said that w-what h-he w-was d-doing w-was r-redeeming me s-so h-hell w-won't b-be as b-bad." France opened his eyes in shock, than closed them slowly in exasperation. He had no idea that this was how the bastard thought he was in the right. France understood that England's people were currently very religious, making him very religious as well. And while they as nations live a long time, it does not mean they don't die in the end. So making young England question where he'll end up in the afterlife, along with raping him was very traumatizing to the poor boy. France was starting to wish he gave the man a more painful death.

"Shh…Angleterre, Mon Petite Lapin, England. That man was a liar and a bastard. You are not worthless. When the time comes, God will not forsake you. And the act on which he performed on you will do nothing towards redeeming or damning you. If anything it will damn the man who did."

"But Frog…it hurts, it hurts so much."

"I know Angleterre, I know. But it will stop hurting one day, and it will be but a dream. It may be a nightmare, but it will be in the past and it will be forgotten." England nodded and untangled himself from France. France gave a smile to the small child.

"Come on. Let's walk to my house. Maybe I'll give you some of my cooking." France took England's hand in his and they slowly walked to his house.

England closed the history book he was reading and looked at the sleeping Frenchman laid out beside him. The (now) older England gave a small smile.

"The bad part became the nightmare…but the good became the unforgettable dream…Frog." He murmured. England leaned over France and turned off the reading light. It was time for more dreams.

_Hetalia is not mine. Korea did not make it either._

_I'm back! Did you peeps miss me?  
_

_I honestly have no idea how this came about. I think I just took a look at one of my (many) Fruk pictures, saw one that had young France protecting young England, remembered that historically many priests have been accused of pedophilia, as well as in the Hetalia-verse England lived in a monastery and boom~This was born. I do feel guilty for writing young Iggy being raped. I do believe it would have been likely to happen in the Hetalia-Verse though. Doesn't help the priests in the anime just look evil. And there was that one guy who chased Iggy for growing his hair out long.  
_

_Does anyone else notice that the most evil leaders live the longest? Or is it just me? Right, I'm going to stop digressing now…_


End file.
